1. Exacting a price from our enemies
For years, we insisted on describing the conflict with our enemies as a "territorial dispute." By doing so, we put the eternal animosity between us into a narrative framework that has a beginning, middle, and end. "Two people are holding on to a tallit… this one says, 'it is all mine' and this one says, 'it is all mine.' ... They shall share" (Babylonian Talmud, tractate Bava Metzia 2a). This concept gave rise to movements among us that proposed the redemptive formula "Land for peace." This one-directional rationalism, with which we framed the conflict, convinced us that the Arabs of Gaza (and those in Judea and Samaria) would rather build their lives than destroy the lives of others, so we offered them work and help to improve their lot. This effort, unfortunately, was in vain. Because in the Middle East, the cradle of human civilization, what matters and what has always mattered is "land," from which the Hebrew word for "man" is derived, as is the word "blood." (In Hebrew, the word for land is "adama," the word for man is "adam" and the word for blood is "dam"). A person without land has no right to exist, and thus to hold on to one's land, blood can be spilled. This ancient truth, which appears in the Bible, seemed for a moment to have been forgotten among the Israelis. For Hamas, Fatah, and the PA, our ancient homeland, the cradle of our growth as a people, is Muslim land. They are not interested in historical facts; they want our land and are willing to spill their blood for it. While we spoke the language of logos, they spoke the language of myth.
The current war proves to our enemies that Jewish blood cannot be spilled without retribution, that they must be punished for the atrocities they committed against our daughters, sons, and parents, and for the destruction of our communities. But this is not enough; if we understand that the basis for existence here is land and not "territories", then killing terrorists and those that assist them will not change the equation. We must exact a price that they understand as a fundamental concept; we must take land from them and hold it forever. This will show them down to the last generation that the price for the aspiration to annihilate us will be their removal from the land from which they set out to slaughter us.
2. The new Hijra
One of the lessons of October 7 is that we cannot leave terrorist movements to exist independently behind walls. The monstrous entity that grew stronger in Gaza preferred to kill Jews over developing the Strip for the benefit of its residents. Today, Gaza is largely in ruins and uninhabitable. We need to help Gaza residents emigrate from the Strip to other countries around the world. Not by force, but voluntarily. Let them start a new life in a place that does not educate them to love death from the moment they are born. Many of them seek to escape the miserable realities of the Gaza Strip; they should be helped. Gazan society is divided into two classes: masters and slaves. The slaves – the simple masses who are not close to the Hamas regime – try to upgrade their status and join the class of masters. But there is only one way to attain such social mobility: joining jihad. The insistence on keeping these poor people in Gaza will inevitably lead them into the arms of jihad and death. Beyond the security aspect, there is also a moral aspect to them being taken in by countries around the world.
3. False messianism
The word "messianic" is often used as a negative description for members of the Coalition and for religious Zionism in general. Woe the divisive nature of these comments. Almost every time I have come across this accusatory description, it's been used by people who don't know much about the messianic idea or Judaism. They use the word "messianic" as a synonym for irrationality, for decisions made based on illogical considerations that do not take reality into account but instead rely on wishful thinking and religious beliefs. Interestingly, it was exactly these kinds of considerations that were behind fateful decisions such as bringing gangs of murderers from Tunisia into the heart of Israel and then arming them; the thought being that they would protect us. Or expelling Jews from their homes, destroying their settlements, and taking up positions behind walls on the assumption that Gaza would become the Singapore of the Middle East. The Oslo Accords and the disengagement as a parable. The irony is that most of those who accuse others of being messianic have historically supported this march of folly; some even promised that as a result of these moves, we would see peace, our security would be improved, and that we would witness a new Middle East. Freud called this "projection."
4. Another planet
This week we went down to the south. We went to Kfar Aza. The burned-out, charred houses are a testament to the horrors and battles that took place there. The youth housing wing of the kibbutz lies near the fence and therefore it took the brunt of the attack. I went into the apartment of Sivan Elkabetz and Naor Hasidim, who were murdered in the first hours of the attack. Sivan's parents, Shimon and Anat, have turned the place into a small museum documenting the tragedy that occurred there that cursed morning. I found it hard to leave. I remembered meeting them a few years ago in Rome during my tenure as ambassador; it was as if that meeting had been at another time on another planet. We were standing near the home of Sha'ar Hanegev Regional Council head Ofir Libstein, who was killed on the morning of the attack while fighting the pogromists. My colleague Zohar showed us a video he had filmed two months earlier in which Ofir talks to a Jewish delegation from the United States about life on the border with Gaza. "They dug tunnels from the house there to our kibbutz and other communities. They see us now. If they want to shoot, they'll shoot, but they need a reason to do so. They don't shoot because they understand that the army is there." He was a man of peace and a visionary.
On the way back we passed through the Reim campsite. Columns with pictures of those murdered at the Nova music festival have been hammered into the ground. The earth here is saturated with their blood, an altar on which they were offered as sacrifice. I felt the need to pray there, and as soon as the thought occurred to me, we had a minyan. At the end of the service, I asked the cantor to say the Kaddish (prayer for the dead) for the kedoshim (those who die for being Jews) The words from Psalm 102 echoed in my head: "Write this down for the generation to come..."
5. We are commanded to resurrect ourselves
We arrived at Kibbutz Kissufim (in Hebrew: yearnings), and in my imagination I saw Rabbi Yehuda Halevi conclude his philosophical book, "The Kuzari" (1139), with a prophetic promise: "Jerusalem can only be rebuilt when Israel yearns for it to such an extent that they embrace her stones and dust." The kibbutz security officer Roni told us about the battle that took place inside his home. We entered what was left of the burned-out house, its walls pierced with bullets. In the safe room door, where his wife and children were hiding, there is a bullet hole that managed to penetrate the door. Before October 7, the kibbutz was flourishing and prosperous, and about 100 of its 300 residents were children. We met Michal, who spoke with bright eyes about rebuilding the Gaza border communities quickly, so as not to turn the residents into exiles dependent on welfare. It's not healthy for the soul to stay in a hotel, she said. They expect the state to help them rebuild the region so that its situation is even better than it was before the attack -- including improving state services (education, health, welfare, etc.). "This comes before commemoration," she said.
I told them that this region will flourish even more than it had before because rising from destruction is etched in our historical consciousness. We are the phoenix that rises from the ashes; our ancient texts saw the phoenix as a symbol of the eternity of our people. Obviously, after the war, a lot of families will want to move to this beautiful area. We were reminded of Zechariah's prophecy from the early days of the Second Temple (5th century BCE) "There shall yet be elderly men and women in the squares of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand because of their great age. And the squares of the city shall be crowded with boys and girls playing in the squares." The blood of our people has been shed in these places and therefore "He will wreak vengeance on his foes" (Deuteronomy 32:43). How can we take revenge on our enemies? This is what Moses taught in his will before his death: "And He shall reconcile His land, His people" (ibid) – by returning the people to their land, against all those who would rise up to stop our return home to Zion. We will return and rebuild you.
